"I'm Dating a Baby Daddy"

What if I told you there was one last storm to get through--would you ride it out with me?" My boyfriend, Rob,* and I had been holding hands in a dimly lit bar, and I was happily sipping a mojito when he spoke. My heart started to beat faster at the nervousness in his voice.

I looked him square in the eye, hesitated and then answered: "Yes, I think so. What's up?"

"Well, remember I told you I slept with Allie back in March? And remember how I told you she called me last week...."

Before he got to the part about how Allie, his ex, was five months pregnant, I already knew what he was going to say. What followed is a blur of tears, but I do remember the text message I sent him from across the table; I was crying too hard to speak. "It's ok," I wrote. "I still luv u."

Only a month before, Rob and I had decided that after a year of on-and-off dating, we were really in love. I was ecstatic. Rob was smart and kind, and we shared a sense of adventure. Then the baby bomb dropped on us. While trying to end things with Allie, he'd slept with her once, believing she was using birth control; he had told me about the slipup before we committed to each other. Her news decimated the perfectly sequential life plan I had been preparing since practically forever--move in together, get engaged, get married, have a child, follow with more children, live happily ever after.

Yet I didn't once seriously consider leaving Rob. And, as I soon learned, our situation was not as unique as I'd thought.

With single parenthood having increased nearly three-fold in the United States since the 1970s, more women are having babies even if they're not in relationships with the fathers. And many of these men choose to fulfill their role as dad, even when they are with someone else. Tom Brady and Gisele Büendchen weathered a very public media storm as Brady's ex, actress Bridget Moynahan, prepared to give birth to the quarterback's son. According to gossip sites, Buendchen even sent Moynahan $1,000 of designer baby goodies. I aspired to be like her--supportive, selfless and, clearly, self-confident.

But it was harder than I could have imagined. I'd fall asleep thinking about how awkward I now felt around my boyfriend's family, how his baby would hate me and how I'd turn into an evil stepmom. "It's going to be fine," my cousin reassured me. "Anyway, you love kids!"

That was true. But the question was, would I love his kid? And what if he got back together with Allie?

Between August, when we learned about the baby, and December, when she was born, we rarely spoke about the "situation," as we called it. Allie, maybe disappointed that they did not reconcile, wasn't returning Rob's calls, e-mails, IMs or letters, and wouldn't disclose the baby's due date or gender. Although Rob wanted to be involved in his child's life, it was unclear how this would transpire.

We were on vacation in the Bahamas when Allie gave birth. Later, looking back at photos, I was stunned to realize that this drunk and silly 27-year-old guy--who had no clue how to change a diaper--had become a father that night. It seemed like Rob and I were no longer in the same category as humans: He was a parent; I was not. He could claim a dependent on his next tax return and celebrate a "Day, " as in Father's; I could not.

Seeking out other women in similar relationships, I learned things can get more complicated with the baby's arrival. Naima, 23, met John when a woman he'd had a one-night stand with was seven months pregnant. "He assured me that everything would be fine, and it was--until his son was born," she recalled. Since then, Naima has dealt with feelings of guilt, "like I'm the reason he doesn't see his kid enough and isn't with his baby's mother." For Cecilia, 33, friendships have gotten awkward. "No one in our circle has children. I feel like I'm living a double life," she says.

Fortunately, our situation has become easier since the birth. Allie, who knows Rob is in a relationship, allows him to visit their daughter whenever he wants. They have gotten along much better since he offered to support her financially. That arrangement has not been so easy for me, though. I can't help but wonder what we could be doing with the $2,000 he hands over every month.

"You think I should not give her money?" he once asked during a heated argument. "No," I admitted. "But I also think you have no choice."

As bitter as I sometimes feel, I know caring for a child alone is beyond difficult. Many mothers struggle financially, whether Dad is involved or not. Kim, 24, who split with her boyfriend a week after conceiving their now 10-month-old, says, "It's tough to think of him with someone new while I do the hard stuff." Understanding these women's challenges helps me face my own. When Rob first broke the baby news, I worried that he would no longer want to have kids with me. Which is why it was such a relief when he recently said, "I can't wait until it's us waking to the sound of crying, rolling over and mumbling, 'It's your turn.'"

I'll admit, I can't wait either. And by then, Rob will actually know how to change a diaper.